Hot Pursuit

by Christina Skye

She stood stiffly. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m all grown up, Broussard, in case you didn’t notice.”

  Oh, he’d noticed.

  Footsteps crunched on gravel and O’Reilly appeared behind them, looking uneasy. “Everything okay out here?”

  “Sure,” Jack said calmly. “Everything’s fine, O’Reilly. Just a little discussion about the fastest way back to Russian Hill.”

  The Irishman didn’t move, looking from one to the other.

  Jack was ready to dish up another lie when his cell phone rang. Aware that only one person had the number, he answered tensely. “Hold on.” He covered the phone and nodded at O’Reilly. “Looks like a change of plans. Now we’ll really be late.” He pointed toward his sedan. “Why don’t you get in, Ms. Taylor?”

  She didn’t move.

  Jack wondered if he was going to have to knock her out and carry her to the car. That meant fighting the big Irishman, of course. Probably half the drivers in the building would join in the melee, and wouldn’t that make one hell of a headline.

  “Fine.” Taylor gave O’Reilly a forced smile and a thumbs-up signal, then strode toward Jack’s sedan. When O’Reilly was out of earshot, she spun around. “I want to talk to Izzy.”

  Jack held out the phone. “Talk away.”

  Taylor glared at Jack, then grabbed the phone. Could her life get any worse? “I want to know what’s going on, Izzy. I don’t need a baby-sitter tagging along.”

  “Don’t give him a hard time, Taylor. The man’s just doing his job.”

  “And what job is that? Wasting taxpayer’s money?” She blew out an angry breath. “Look, Izzy, I’ll help all I can, but the fact is, I know nothing.” Jack opened her door and Taylor slid into the passenger seat, frowning. “Of course, if Rains actually came after me, things would be different.”

  “Rains has disappeared.” Izzy’s voice was flat.

  Professional mode, Taylor thought.

  “So what? He probably took a trip to Aruba with one of his girlfriends. That has nothing to do with me.”

  Izzy’s chair creaked. “For starters, Rains is involved with your friend Candace. You and Candace had a climbing accident last week for no clear reason. Except, of course, that the bolt was tampered with.”

  Taylor swallowed hard. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I sent an expert up on that cliff to check it out. He said there was no question. That break didn’t come from normal climbing usage, Taylor. Someone had damaged the bolt.”

  “You think Rains set that up?” she whispered.

  “Very probable. I’m going to need everything you know about him.”

  “There isn’t much. He’s Candace’s friend, not mine. I’ve never spoken to him.” Taylor frowned. “And I still don’t understand why—”

  “No details,” Izzy said. “I’ll meet you. Jack knows where.”

  When Taylor glanced over, Jack was scanning the nearby traffic, his eyes hard.

  Looking the way Izzy had looked.

  Looking the way her sister’s wounded SEAL, Sam McKade, had looked.

  “Is he a Fed, Izzy?”

  “He’s the man I’ve assigned to keep you safe, Taylor. The rest is irrelevant.”

  She took a deep breath, trying to digest this new information. “What happens now?”

  “Jack stays with you. That means everywhere. Rains may decide to contact you.”

  “But he has no reason to contact me.”

  “None that we know of. That doesn’t mean none exists.”

  “Don’t get philosophical with me, Izzy. What about my television interview tomorrow?”

  “Canceled.”

  “Are you crazy? The publicity department has been working on this for six months!”

  “We’re not going to make you an easy target, Taylor. Not for Rains or anyone else. For the moment, you can keep your regular appointments, anything low profile.”

  “But anything really good, like television, gets canned, is that it?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Izzy covered the phone and Taylor heard muffled voices. “Gotta go, Taylor. Put Jack on, will you?”

  She held out the phone. “Here,” she said. But her hand was shaking as Izzy’s words hit her.

  Not for Rains or anyone else.

  Dear Lord, how many people were watching her right now?

  Chapter Twenty-three

  They argued for fifteen minutes before they decided to stop for breakfast. Then they argued for ten more minutes about where to stop. Taylor’s stomach was growling when they finally agreed on a Denny’s near Union Square.

  Jack glanced around a room filled with upwardly mobile young professionals rushing through high-fiber muffins with ersatz butter. “If they offer me an egg substitute omelet, I’m going to shoot someone,” he muttered. When the waitress came, he scowled and ordered two eggs over easy, a big stack of pancakes, and sausage on the side.

  Taylor snapped her menu shut and said she’d have the same.

  Lacing her fingers, she watched him tensely. “Maybe it’s time you told me what you really do.”

  “I already told you.”

  “Oh, please. If you work this closely with Izzy, you’re probably with one of those three-letter agencies. Which is it, the CIA or NSA?”

  The waitress returned, giving Jack an interested smile as she filled his coffee. He took a drink and watched her retreating back. “Neither.”

  “FBI?”

  He turned his coffee cup slowly. “Wrong again.”

  “Izzy’s a pro. That means you’re a pro.” She drummed her fingers lightly. “Marines?”

  He snorted.

  Taylor sat back, her eyes narrowed. “Is this one of those macho, interforce rivalry things?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you? Not how long Rains has been gone. Not even why he’s gone.”

  Jack drank some coffee, saying nothing. Taylor realized that answered her question. She doodled on her napkin, feeling the first stab of a headache. “Just so you know, I’ve got a charity event tomorrow night. There’s no way I’m canceling that.”

  “Take it up with Izzy. I’m just the hired help,” Jack said dryly.

  The waitress returned, balancing a tray with half a dozen plates. After filling the table with eggs, pancakes, and sausages, the woman slanted Jack another interested look and swiveled away.

  Taylor noticed that he took his time watching her progress back to the kitchen. “Do women always look at you that way?”

  He put an arm over the top of the seat. “What way?”

  “Like they could eat you for breakfast.”

  Jack shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything. She was just being friendly.”

  Sure. And I’m Agatha Christie. Taylor frowned, struck by just how attractive he was, something that went far beyond bone structure and jacket size.

  Because the thought irritated her, she set down her coffee cup with a snap. “I expected her to slip you her phone number.” Taylor realized she was being catty and took a deep breath. “Sorry. Not my business.” She raised a hand. “Even if I’m on edge, there’s no reason to take it out on you.”

  “There’s no reason for you to be edgy.” A muscle moved at Jack’s jaw. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning when it’s time to worry, I’ll tell you.”

  Taylor stared at her plate of pancakes, her appetite fading fast. “So you’re telling me that things are going to get worse?”

  “I’m saying it’s likely.”

  Taylor was working on a curt answer when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen but didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Taylor, where are you? I’ve left three message already.” It was Candace, sounding out of breath.

  “I’m eating breakfast near Union Square.” Taylor pushed away her plate. “What’s wrong?”

  Her friend sounded very worried. �
�Harris just called. He said he needed to borrow my climbing equipment to give to a friend. I remembered just in time that I had said I’d thrown everything away after our accident. Do you think he believed me?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just don’t let him in and you’ll be fine.”

  “But what do I say if he shows up?”

  “Nothing. Don’t open the door. Don’t answer the bell.”

  Jack slid a napkin in front of her and wrote Who? in big letters. Candace, Taylor wrote back. Harris just called her, she added.

  “Candace, are you listening?”

  Her friend dragged in a tense breath. “He also asked about you, Taylor. He wanted to know where you are and who your friend was.” Candace hesitated. “I think he’s been watching you.”

  “Rains asked about me?” Taylor stared down at the pool of butter melting on her untouched pancakes. “What else did he want to know?”

  “If you had received something in the mail recently. He sounded upset, and he wasn’t making a lot of sense. I heard car horns, so I think he was calling from a pay phone, maybe near Fisherman’s Wharf.”

  Taylor wrote Fisherman’s Wharf on the napkin and pushed it toward Jack, who turned and spoke quietly on his cell phone.

  To Izzy, no doubt.

  “Listen, Candace, everything will be fine. Just do what I told you and stay away from Rains.”

  “I understand, Taylor. But I’m scared, really scared. I think I’m going to leave for a few weeks. Maybe I’ll go down to Cancún for a while. I’ve got some climbing buddies down there. Could I see you before I go? You know, just to say good-bye?”

  “Of course, Candace. Where do you want to meet?”

  Taylor was listening to her friend’s directions when Jack pushed another napkin in front of her.

  No meeting, it said.

  “Hold on a minute, Candace.” Taylor covered the phone and glared at Jack. “Why can’t I meet my friend?”

  “No meeting,” he said flatly. “Now you’d better hang up. The call could be traced.”

  “This is crazy. I’m not listening.” She lifted the phone. “Candace, I’ll meet you at the—”

  The line went dead, thanks to the finger Jack jabbed against the POWER button.

  “Now I know you’re a lunatic. That was the most rude, the most—”

  “How do you know she was alone?” Jack said quietly. “How do you know Rains or one of his nasty buddies wasn’t right beside her with a gun to her head?”

  Taylor sat back slowly, feeling a little sick. “But you don’t know that.”

  “I don’t know he wasn’t, Taylor, and I’m not about to risk your life on the possibility.”

  She looked down, fidgeting. “Candace wasn’t calling from her home phone,” she said slowly. “And it wasn’t her cell phone or I’d have recognized the number.”

  Jack frowned. “We’ll check it out.”

  “But you don’t really believe that Candace—”

  Jack rubbed his neck, frowning at the restaurant’s front window. “I believe that someone wants Rains, and now they might want you.” His eyes narrowed on the passing traffic. “I’d say the people Rains was doing business with are trying to recoup their losses. If they can’t get what they want from Rains, they’ll move to the next choice. Candace may even have agreed to help them.”

  “Impossible. It’s just that she still cares about the jerk. Don’t ask me why.” Taylor’s appetite was definitely gone. In fact, she might never eat again as long as she lived. Under the circumstances, that might not be a very long time.

  “Scoot over.”

  When Taylor looked up, her eyes widened. He was as handsome as ever, his dark features too intelligent for the linebacker’s shoulders and torso. “Izzy?”

  “In the flesh.” His lips twitched. “Scoot over before we make a scene here.”

  Taylor shifted over to make room, all the while taking in the sight of his familiar features. A year earlier, Ishmael Teague had worked with Sam McKade on a secret operation involving a traitor inside the Navy, and Sam had said there was no one finer. Taylor still didn’t know exactly what Izzy did, which was proof of how good Izzy was.

  “Candace called you just now?”

  Taylor looked at Jack, frowning. “Yes, it was Candace.”

  “This is important, Taylor. What did she want?”

  “She wanted to see me, that’s all. Rains had called her, asking about me, and she was worried.”

  Izzy said nothing.

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “Did Rains ever give you anything?”

  Taylor shook her head impatiently. “Nothing. I’ve seen him once or twice in the building, but we’ve never talked. And you’re wrong about Candace,” she said sharply. “She doesn’t understand any of this.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Izzy stared at his hands, open on the table. “I had that climbing gear checked while you were in Monterey. The bolt could never have blown from normal climbing stress. Someone gave it a good workout before they took it up on the rock.”

  Taylor tried to keep calm. “Who?”

  “Rains could have paid someone. Or Candace may have done it.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Candace got hurt in that fall, too.”

  “I’m simply outlining the possibilities, Taylor. We need to work from facts, not emotions.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “I want you to go over every detail of the last few months. Think about when and where you’ve seen Candace and Harris Rains. Think of anything that changed hands between them. Think of anyone else you saw with them. Every detail is crucial.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it. The transfer may not have been obvious, so think hard.” His eyes narrowed. “A lot is riding on this, Taylor. We’ve got a missing Navy scientist, a possible connection with highly toxic materials, and we need to know how Rains fits in.”

  “Toxic as in smallpox?”

  “Toxic as in ricin,” Izzy said quietly.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Ricin.

  The most lethal natural biological toxin in existence, seven times more deadly than cobra venom. Less than two grams could kill hundreds of people, if dispersed as an inhalant.

  Taylor shuddered. Research like that you didn’t soon forget. “You’re frightening me.”

  “Good.” Izzy’s eyes were hard. “Maybe now you’ll stop being so thickheaded.”

  “Why can’t you find Rains and the rest of these people? I want my life back, Izzy.”

  “We’re working on it. For now, you’re on a short leash. No more sneaking off without Jack.”

  Taylor looked away, remembering what had happened in Annie’s hospital room. “Fine, even if I don’t like it.” She crossed her arms. “By the way, I have a big charity function tomorrow night. I’m raffling off a set of my books.”

  “I’ll need to get approval on that.”

  Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “As it happens, a lot of Navy brass from Monterey and San Diego are scheduled to be there. I’m supposed to be escorted by an Admiral Bader or Baden.”

  “Braden,” Izzy muttered. “Just great.”

  “You know him?”

  “Vaguely. Look, Taylor, I need to go through channels on this. Since the Feds are involved, I want everyone on the same page.”

  Taylor looked from one man to the other. “The Feds?”

  “Don’t ask.” Izzy was standing by the table when the waitress returned.

  She gave him a long, assessing glance. “Can I get something for you, honey?”

  “No thanks, ma’am. Just leaving.”

  “Now that’s a real shame.” The waitress raised on eyebrow at Jack. “Anything for you two?”

  “All taken care of.”

  “Too bad.” Her hips took on a definite sway as she headed back to the kitchen.

  “You ruined her day,” Taylor murmured. “She was definitely interested, Izzy.”

  “I don’t want to know. As for you, listen to Jack. Th
ese people are a walking disaster area, and I don’t want you becoming their next victim.”

  He gave her a hard look, then strode out.

  Taylor stood up. “I’m ready to go.” Taylor grabbed her purse, watching Jack impatiently. “I have to get back to work.” She frowned as her cell phone rang again.

  “What?” she snarled.

  “In a bad mood again or is it just that time of the month?”

  Taylor sighed as she recognized Sunny de Vito’s voice. “I’m a little tied up right now, Sunny.”

  “I hope he’s built. If so, save some rope for me.”

  “Very funny.”

  “So, what time do you need me tomorrow?”

  “Need you to do what?”

  “Well, I could do a stand-up routine, but I figure doing your hair and makeup might be more useful for the charity gala tomorrow night. Your sister called me last week to arrange it. Didn’t she tell you?”

  A surprise from Annie?

  Unfortunately, Annie had been a little busy lately and she hadn’t had a chance to tell her sister.

  Taylor swallowed hard. “You two are something else. Six o’clock would be good, but I don’t know if I’m still going.”

  “You, turn down a charity event that involves shopping? Do you have a fever or what?”

  “Something’s . . . come up. Can I get back to you later?”

  “Listen, are you okay? You sound upset, Taylor. I mean, extremely upset.”

  Taylor managed a laugh. “Just a little stressed. Book deadlines and all that. I’ll call you tonight.”

  After she rang off, she stared at Jack. “So I can’t go anywhere alone?”

  “Afraid not. It’s for your own good, Taylor.”

  “Somehow, people always say that just before they do something that really sucks.” She wasn’t taking this lying down, Taylor thought. “I’ll be back in a minute. I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Why?” Jack scowled at her. “You barely ate or drank.”

  She gave him a withering look. “Harassing me already?” As soon as she walked past the table, Taylor had her cell phone out, dialing. “Sunny?”

  “Yeah, and you’d better be Publishers Clearinghouse or Brad Pitt.”

  “Be serious for a minute, Sunny. I need your uncle Vinnie’s number.”